


Books and Brews (The Librarian AU)

by Aulistria



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Brewmaster Geralt, Competent Jaskier | Dandelion, Good Parent Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Librarian Jaskier, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24889606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aulistria/pseuds/Aulistria
Summary: Jaskier, children's librarian and general competent human being, has a loyal following of tiny fans. His Toddler Music Hour is the hit of the Cintra Public Library System, and he loves his job. The hot dad accompanying the newest member of his music hour isn't a hard on the eyes, so Jaskier can't complain.When a date goes awry (really, who suggests meeting up and then doesn't show?!), a surprise connection leads to an enjoyable conversation and maybe more.Each chapter is a completed short story inside the Books and Brews 'verse.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 29
Kudos: 345





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends, and welcome. This is my first time writing fanfiction in 15 years? Yes, I'm a former librarian and I do love beer and dabble in brewing. I figure, write what you know. I'm looking at making this a series, but would love to hear what people think. I have watched the series and read the first book and a half, so I think it's entirely likely that my Geralt and Jaskier are an amalgamation of both. 
> 
> Shout out to my dear friend Pika, who beta-ed and judged my beer commentary. 
> 
> Also for any other librarians reading... I recognize that this library has magic funding that is the envy of every, real library regardless of type!

Children’s librarian hadn’t been where Julian (Jaskier) Pankratz had thought he would end up. After finding written theory in his music education courses dreadfully dull and being irritated by the stifling rigidity of the performance aspect of the program, he had switched to Linguistics. Fortunately, a kind librarian had taken pity on his multi-weekly trip to the campus library to check out the textbook for his World Civ course (how was it his fault that his book had gotten lost in the mail?), and he eventually found himself working in the university’s library. He graduated with honors, and decided to pursue a master’s in library science - where he discovered his love for children’s literature and programming. His parents scoffed at him to this day (“Really, Julian. Do you need an advanced degree to shelve books?”) But he’d fallen in love with children’s services, and found a way to incorporate his music into his profession. Life was good. 

Or at least… it would be good. As soon as his desk shift replacement arrived to relieve him from the service desk so he could go set up for the Toddler Music hour. Triss, bless her, had agreed to cover if Valdo Marx (the _world’s most irritating Teen Services Librarian_ ) would just show up on time for once in his fucking life. Valdo thought himself above desk service. Jaskier rather thought he could go fuck himself. 

He impatiently twitched his foot underneath the desk, directing bright smiles at little clusters of children and harried parents as they came rushing past. Toddler Music Hour had become so popular since he started at Cintra Public Library’s Youth Services Department that he had to split it into age groups. Today’s group was the four year olds, the first program since the beginning of the summer holiday. All week he had been fielding calls and emails from parents begging for him to start up the summer program. A musician always tried to please their audience... Even if the audience in question consisted of toddlers who screamed in delight every time Jaskier played Baby Shark and child-friendly versions of pop songs

Jaskier paused in his grinning and waving, and impatiently glanced towards where Valdo was sauntering out from the office. Not wanting to waste any time getting caught in a dick-measuring contest about program size, Jaskier grabbed his guitar case, hat box, and dinosaur-shaped water bottle and hurried to the staff entrance to the programming room. Set up, fortunately, was fairly easy. The Youth Services Department was surprisingly well funded for a public library. Calanthe, Director of the Library, scared the ever-living shit out of everyone and no one dared underfund her domain. Subsequently, Jaskier had a decent sound system, a small stage area that _he_ never used (but Valdo always made a point of conducting his programs from like he was a professor at Oxenfurt and not a mediocre program creator at _best)_ and a large open area to have enthusiastic dance parties and story time. 

Having gotten his daily Valdo-is-the-worst inner monologue done with (always worse on days when Valdo knew he had a program and was deliberately late), Jaskier quickly turned on the sound system, made sure the automatic timer for the lighting system was off, and hurried over to fling open the doors. 

As soon as the doors opened, he was met with an enthusiastic wall of sound, tiny squawks of “ _JASKIER!”_ accompanied by a stampede of cheerful, knee-height or slightly taller, children and the groans of frustrated parents as their terrors fled past him into the room. Jaskier grinned at the parents shuffling past, calling out cheerful hellos to the regulars and introducing himself to the new parents. He did a quick scan of the waiting area outside the programming room and noticed a broad-shouldered man with striking long, white hair crouching in front of a young girl with hair nearly as white. She was eyeing the room with an alarming amount of trepidation for a child so young, and it was clear the man (her father? uncle?) was trying to coax her in. 

Never one to let a potential new friend to his Toddler Music Hour feel unwelcomed, Jaskier sidled over, keeping his eyes locked on the little girl. Making sure to not crowd the little girl or the man with her, he threw out an amiable “Welcome to Toddler Music Hour!” to the man, hoping to show he wasn’t scary. His attention had mainly been on the little girl, but upon glancing at the man’s striking features (holy shit, Jaskier’s internal dialogue supplied - did he use his cheekbones to cut glass in his spare time? the _angles_ ) he found himself tripping up. He recovered quickly, clearing his throat and continuing, “I’m Jaskier! Are you going to join us today?” He made a point of directing this at the man, hoping he’d follow along with the _friendly, perky guy is not scary and this is a totally fun_ routine. 

The man, surprisingly, gave him an obvious once over and smiled. Grimaced? “Geralt. This is Ciri, and we’ve just moved to town.” This was all said with a distractingly deep voice, and with the attitude of someone who was daring you to contradict his statement. What Jaskier was meant to contradict he wasn’t sure, but he was suddenly deeply invested in both knowing more about this man as well as making sure he didn’t end up on his bad side. He looked like he probably could break him with one giant hand. 

Nevertheless, music time called! “Hi, Ciri! What’s your favorite song?” Ciri, peering up at him with big green eyes, pondered this carefully. 

Glancing quickly at her uncle? brother? for reassurance, she whispered, “Sun Song?” 

Thoroughly flummoxed, Jaskier glanced at the man crouched with her, who smiled adoringly at the little girl before filling in, “Here Comes the Sun.” 

“Ah! A Beatles fan!” Looking down at Ciri, Jaskier asked, “Would you like me to sing ‘Here Comes the Sun’ to start today?” 

Ciri beamed brightly for a second, forgetting herself in her excitement for her favorite song. “Yes!” She tugged at Geralt’s hand, before becoming shy as she approached the door. Geralt carefully picked her up, nodding at Jaskier’s gesture asking them to precede them into the room. 

Jaskier smiled at Ciri over Geralt’s shoulder, tugged the door closed on the programming room’s doors, and brought the Toddler Hour together with a cheerful strum of his guitar. 

\-----

Winded but still flush with the adrenaline of a well-done program, Jaskier called goodbyes to the kids as they left. He was in the process of coiling up the cording on the speaker for his music player, when he felt a slight tug on his shirt. Turning, he saw little Ciri standing behind him, her intimidating man-of-unknown-relation behind her. 

“How can I help you, Miss Ciri?” The little girl giggled. 

“Thanks for the music, Mr. Jas-..” She stopped, clearly befuddled by the pronunciation of his name. 

“You can call me Jas, it’s fine. More than one of your new friends does too!” Ciri had made fast friends with a fellow Toddler Music Hour attendee, Dara. Jaskier had caught Geralt exchanging contact information with Dara’s parents, so hopefully Ciri would have a new friend in her new town. “Do you think you’d want to come back?” He followed up. 

Ciri hopped up and down for a moment, squealing a delighted, “ _Yes!”_

“Great! Then, Geralt, I’ll get you the schedule for the summer, so you’ll have it. It also has the rest of the summer programming, including our Family Reading Program.” 

He finished cleaning down the room, and then led them to the Youth Services desk where brightly printed schedules were available for families to take home. He handed the piece of paper to Geralt, who took it and tucked it into a pocket. Geralt thanked him blithely ignoring Ciri, who appeared to be trying to hang off of Geralt’s arm. Ciri waved gleefully over her shoulder, from where she hung, limpet-like, on Geralt’s arm. 

Jaskier smiled and waved at the newest members of Toddler Music Hour. Turning back to the Youth Services desk, he saw Valdo sneering at him. Jaskier huffed at him, breezing past and ignoring the muttered snide remarks. Another program successfully completed! Time to go find some new children’s books for the collection. 

\-----

Over the next few weeks Ciri and Geralt continued to show up for Toddler Music Hour. Triss mentioned in passing a new hot dad with long white hair, so apparently they also showed up for Triss’s storytimes. 

It had been a long week, and while Jaskier loved his programs, he had also worked both day shifts the weekend prior. Normally Calanthe would have had their heads, but Jaskier and Triss had managed a schedule swapp that allowed him to free Triss for a weekend with her parents, who had come into town. Jaskier, always happier not seeing his own, couldn’t relate but he was happy to help a friend out. Nevertheless, Jaskier had a rare three day weekend without having to take leave and he was fully planning on taking advantage of it. 

He had been chatting casually with someone for a few weeks and had mentioned he had a three day weekend. His latest conversational partner, Piotr, had suggested meeting up for dinner on Friday night, which seemed like a good start to his three day weekend. They were meeting at Jaskier’s favorite place, Kaer Morhen Brewery. Jaskier figured if the guy ended up being a total creep, he could get Eskel or Lambert (the usual weekend bartenders and the Brewery’s brewmasters) to give him a hand, and if not... well-- who was he to keep someone from the best brewery in Cintra City? 

Friday passed quickly, Jaskier taking shameless advantage of the ability to sleep in and taking some time to work on his own music. While he loved his job, and relished in being able to get young minds invested in music, it was exhausting to play endless kid-safe pop music. He’d had a melody taking shape in his mind for days, so after waking up late he settled in on a chair in his living room and started working it out with guitar in hand and recorder set up for him to record his progress. While he eventually put the music to paper, he’d found a system ages ago that worked for him and was certainly less time consuming. 

Jaskier pulled on appropriately fitted clothing, grabbed his keys and did a quick check in the hall mirror. Hair appropriately and artfully mussed, Jaskier started the short walk to the brewery. Cintra City was bustling, but Jaskier had lucked out in finding an apartment that was not terribly expensive and close enough to the library and transit systems to not need to invest in a bike to get around. 

He arrived a few minutes early and sidled up to the bar, finding a couple open stools and settled in. Kaer Morhen had a great selection, and Eskel was usually willing to let Jaskier sample before settling. Lambert, the ass, was more prone to deciding he knew what Jaskier wanted and ignoring his attempts to try their newly tapped beers. He saw Eskel working his way down the long bar in his direction. 

When Eskel finally made his way over, he leaned his elbows on the polished wood in front of Jaskier. “What’s up, Jaskier? Triss joining you tonight?” 

“Not tonight. Meeting a date.”

Eskel wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Jaskier, and then gestured towards the long row of taps behind him. “Well, can I whet your palette while you wait for your gentleman caller?”

Eskel, it seems, is also an ass. But - beer. 

“The new stout, please. Also, you’re a dick. Can I try it before you pull the full glass, please?” Eskel snorted, but pulled a small portion in the flight glass before handing it to Jaskier.

“What’s your new boy’s name, anyways? If you’d waited I could have set you up with my brother. He just moved to town!” 

“Piotr, and if he’s anything like Lambert, you can fuck right off with that idea.” 

Lambert, demonstrating that he was, in fact, paying attention to the conversation, threw a slice of orange at Jaskier from across the taps and hit him in the nose. “Fuck off, Jaskier.” 

Jaskier toasted Lambert with his sample, and took a considering sip. Chocolatey and rich - he approved. He knocked the rest of the glass back and nodded at Eskel when he tipped the pint glass inquiringly in his direction. Eskel pulled the stout, letting the rich head foam and placed it with a flourish in front of Jaskier. “Your beer, your lordship.” 

Jaskier thanked Eskel cheerfully. He glanced at his phone, noting Piotr was late but willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Traffic was notoriously bad this time of day, and Piotr had mentioned in passing that he lived outside of Cintra, proper. 

Eskel had moved on to help a small group of young women settling in at the bar. Jaskier watched him tolerate a young woman trying particularly hard to get his attention, before glancing around the slowly-filling brewery. Kaer Morhen had a good reputation for not being too raucous but having excellent beer, and a no-nonsense attitude towards people looking to take advantage of any of their clientele. Jaskier had an aggressive date that Eskel had gotten him out of, with a well-placed ban. Eskel had won his respect in that moment, and Kaer Morhen had won his loyalty. He directed most of his single friends to take their first dates here. 

The restrooms were gender neutral, and all of them had a phone number on a sign that you could text with your description for help in getting out of a bad situation quickly. He took another long sip of his beer and opened up his messages app to see if he’d missed a text from Piotr. Nothing. 

It was now about 15 minutes past when they had agreed to meet. Well, shit. It was starting to look like he’d been stood up. Well, he hadn’t been terribly invested in Piotr but still; what a fucking dick move. Jaskier huffed, and took another drink. Lambert was starting to sidle over, which probably meant trouble in the shape of a good distraction. 

“Lambert, do not put that shit in my beer!” Lambert, not as stealthy as he usually was, pulled back the bottle of hot sauce he’d pulled from gods knew where. 

“Whatever, Jaskier. Chocolate and chili goes well together, you have no sense of adventure. Eskel said you were meeting someone - is he a no show?” 

Jaskier sighed. “Seems like. Douche move, too. At least _message_.” 

Lambert grinned obnoxiously at Jaskier. “Well, you’re cute in a hopeless puppy kind of way. I think it’s the hair. You’ll find someone.” 

Jaskier rolled his eyes at Lambert and drained his beer. 

“Well if you’re going to be a dick, can you be a dick who gets me a new beer?” Jaskier fluttered his eyes at Lambert. 

Lambert, apparently deciding he was above Jaskier’s antics despite trying to _spike his beer with hot sauce_ , turned away from Jaskier and went to pull him a beer. A different beer, because Lambert was apparently in a mood. He thumped a beer down in front of Jaskier. “Here’s the new IPA. I don’t know why Eskel let’s you start with stouts, it messes with your palette and you _always_ want to drink an IPA at some point.” 

Jaskier smiled and simperingly said, “I didn’t know you were so concerned about my tongue, Lambert.” Lambert gagged at him. 

“Drink your beer, asshole. Someday, I’ll get you to appreciate beer properly.” 

Jaskier continued drinking his beer, glancing around the bar while considering his options. Maybe he could salvage his evening. Jaskier used dating apps for convenience but he was comfortable talking to people he randomly met. He twisted around on his stool, beer in hand, and surveyed the room. There were several groups scattered around the taproom that looked like they might welcome a friendly face. 

He felt a tap on his shoulder, and twisted back around, seeing Eskel leaning on the bar. “What’s got you so distracted, Jaskier?” Jaskier sighed, and settled in to talk to Eskel for a bit longer. 

\------

Geralt glared at the inventory list. Eskel and Lambert were excellent brewers but had the organization skills of his daughter. He’d implemented a digital inventory system upon his arrival, which did fuck-all good if they didn’t log what they were using. The Brewery being a family operation, he would probably be the immediate suspect if he murdered them for messing up his carefully inventoried grain supply. That didn’t stop him from contemplating the consequences anyway. 

Geralt cursed under his breath, trying to make sense of Eskel’s log. He’d taken… 40… something… of Cintran hops? For… something. Damn his brothers! Geralt was generally technologically inept, but if he could figure out the inventory system surely they could too! 

His snarling was interrupted by Lambert throwing open the office door with an unholy crash. “Geralt! Time to meet our lovely patrons!” Geralt glared at Lambert.

“Why the fuck would I do that? We agreed that you and Eskel do the bartending, along with whoever you want to hire, and I deal with the logistics of supplying the brewery with palatable drinks.” 

Lambert was ignoring him as he yanked Geralt forcefully from the chair and shoved him out of the office. He remembered when Lambert was a little shit who couldn’t move him if he tried. Clearly that time had passed. He cheerfully continued herding a snarling Geralt towards the taproom. He was always at his happiest when he was making Geralt suffer. 

He herded Geralt into the center of the taproom. Lambert shoved Geralt over to Eskel, who was leaning against the bar. Geralt glanced to see who Eskel was talking with, startled to see the librarian Ciri had been chattering about non-stop since they’d started going to music hour at the library. 

Eskel caught Lambert’s eye and cheerfully waved Geralt over. “Geralt, meet one of our best customers! Jaskier, this surly asshole is my brother, Geralt.” Geralt watched as Jaskier’s eyes widened in surprise. 

“Oh! Hello, Geralt! How is Ciri doing?” Jaskier did a jaunty little wave at Geralt. 

Geralt narrowed his eyes at Eskel and Lambert’s startled expressions, silently willing them to shut the fuck up for once. “She’s doing well. Thanks, again, for that horrifying song about the dog and beans. She’s been singing it non-stop for a week.” 

Jaskier grinned, slightly malicious. “It’s one of the most charming songs I know! I figure since I’m forced to sing non-stop pop songs, it’s the least I can do for the adults in the room.” 

Jaskier was an ass. He did that shit on _purpose?_ Geralt glared at him. “A week. Of a song. About a dog named after various beans. I didn’t know my daughter _knew_ that many types of beans.” 

Eskel butted into their conversation. “I’m sorry, you know each other? How?” 

Jaskier cheerfully interjected before Geralt could shut his brothers up. “Oh, Geralt attends the Toddler Music Hour I do at Cintra Public Library with his _daughter_ Ciri!” 

The emphasis on daughter was not lost on Geralt. Who did Jaskier think Ciri was, exactly? Jaskier, apparently equally as impervious to Geralt’s attempts at glaring people into silence, continued. 

“I have to admit, Geralt, I wasn’t sure until a few visits later when I actually heard Ciri call you dad that you were her father. I was going between a very surly nanny and bodyguard to some sort of undercover princess.” 

Lambert lost it, flopping over the bar and cackling. Jaskier, seeing his story had a captive audience, started humming that infernal bean song.

Geralt, recognizing trouble and more than happy to get away from Lambert and Eskel, interrupted any further conversation with a gruff, “What are you drinking, Jaskier?”

Jaskier, who apparently hadn’t noticed that he’d made his way through his latest glass, looked at Lambert. “The new IPA… I think. Lambert doesn’t tell me, just shames me for drinking beer out of order.” 

Geralt nodded. “He’s right. If you drink a darker beer first you can’t get the full flavor profile of the lighter ones. I’ll get you another IPA. Would you like to go over to one of the quieter tables and get away from these assholes?” 

Jaskier stared suspiciously at all three of them. Probably a safe reaction, if he’d been around Eskel and Lambert for any period of time, Geralt mused. 

“Sure, why not?” Jaskier gathered his phone and slid off the stool. He walked around to the opening of the bar, clearly waiting for Geralt. Geralt whacked Lambert on the head, ignored Eskel’s overly-salacious wink and pulled a couple more IPAs before leading Jaskier to an unoccupied table in the corner. 

\-----

Jaskier was entirely confused about how he went from stood up for a date to sitting down for drinks with the distractingly hot dad from one of his programs. As he followed Geralt to the table, Jaskier took the opportunity to stare at Geralt’s ass. That ass did look _very good_ in those pants. Jaskier had long-since perfected the art of the quick glance for the ass-check. By the time Geralt had set their beers on the high-top he’d led them to, Jaskier was cheerfully meeting his gaze. 

“So, Geralt. This is a little awkward. Did your brothers just try to set us up? Are you even interested in men?” Jaskier hadn’t gotten where he was in life by being subtle. 

Geralt, surprisingly, did not shy away from the question. “I’m bi. And you are exactly my type. Also you’re not subtle, I’ve noticed you staring at me when I take Ciri to your programs.” He grinned a little wolfishly at Jaskier. “So, I guess the question is really what are you interested in, Jaskier?”

Jaskier swallowed roughly. He had always appreciated a man who came out and said exactly what he meant. Poetry and lyricism are all well and good, but ambiguity when it came to sex or dating was… not great. “I’m not opposed to a mutually beneficial experience, but I would also be fine with talking.” Jaskier sat on the tall chair across from where Geralt stood. “How about we start figuring out if we have anything in common and go from there?”

Geralt sat and they started talking. 

\-----

By the time the brewery started to close, Jaskier and Geralt had gone through a variety of beers, and their conversation had shifted from the oddities of Jaskier’s favorite brewery being the place where the hot dad from his programs worked, to more complex, deep topics. Jaskier, for all that he talked, was a surprisingly good listener with a level head and a dark sense of humor. Geralt found himself talking about his degrees in Food Justice and certifications in Brewing Sciences, his desire to move to an entirely sustainably sourced supply-line for the ingredients for Kaer Morhen’s brews. The fact that Jaskier hadn’t fallen asleep while he talked about food inequality across Cintra, and trying to start community gardens to promote local food supplies was in-itself shocking. Even his brothers, who actually cared about this, eventually passed out. 

While it was clear that Jaskier wasn’t studied in these areas, he was intelligent and quick to follow Geralt’s thoughts. He was also witty, and as he got progressively more intoxicated, prone to flirty, harmless touches. Geralt was charmed. 

“Jaskier. Lambert has been texting me increasingly more threatening messages for the last ten minutes. It’s time to call it a night.” Geralt gently tugged the empty pint glass from Jaskier’s hand, snorting at his betrayed whine. “It’s time for drunk librarians to go to home.” 

Jaskier sighed. “Fine, Geralt, but you’re to blame for my hangover. I never did eat actual food. Beer snacks, as good as they taste, don’t count.” 

Geralt was horrified. “How did the fact that you’ve not eaten not come up in the last _four hours,_ Jaskier?” 

Jaskier waved him off. “I was enjoying our conversation. So, will you give me your number so that I can talk to you outside of the library and random encounters at my favorite beer supplier?” 

“Yes, Jaskier.” Geralt gestured for Jaskier to hand over his phone. He hesitated, considering, before asking, “Would you like me to call you a cab? I would offer to drive you, but I walk to the brewery. Ciri and I have a townhome a ten minute walk from here.” 

Jaskier smiled at him, charmed. “I’m not _that_ drunk, Geralt. I’m not far from home, myself. I lucked out when I found my apartment. Would you maybe want to meet up again, sometime? Intentionally?” 

Geralt nodded. “Text me when you get home, and we can figure something out. It was nice talking with you, Jaskier.” 

They both stood, hesitating for a moment. Jaskier seemed to be contemplating something, before he quickly stepped forward and bussed a quick kiss to Geralt’s cheek. Geralt flashed him a quick smile, tugging him forward before he could dart away, into a firm hug. “It was nice really talking with you, Jaskier. Safe walk home.” He let Jaskier go. 

Jaskier grinned at him, all bright eyes and distracting mouth. “Bye, Geralt! Bye, assholes! Thanks for the beer!” He threw a jaunty wave over his shoulder, and walked across the room and through the door into the still-bustling street. 

Geralt watched him leave, appreciatively eyeing Jaskier’s tall, lithe form. Then he gathered the glasses from the table, and turned to his brothers staring at him pointedly from the bar. “Shut the fuck up. Seriously.” 

Lambert cackled. Eskel grinned. Geralt sighed, shoved the glasses in the high-power washer behind the bar, and went to shut down the office for the night. Maybe being tugged away from the inventory wasn’t such a loss, after all. 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and Geralt meet up for a date. It is very soft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for such kind words and the kudos! I plan on treating each chapter of this fic as a completed short story. I have no idea how make the metadata side of Ao3 indicate that, so keep that in mind. Everything should be able to be read as a separate short story in the same universe. 
> 
> Again, thanks to my beta who snarked her way through the early draft of this chapter!

Geralt woke up slowly, surprised to see he’d slept late. Ciri had spent the night at his father Vesemir’s, and Geralt was enjoying waking up without a tiny foot trying to take out his spleen. He adored his daughter, but Ciri had a future as an assassin that killed using only well-placed kicks. Geralt couldn’t count how many times she’d kicked him in the groin while clambering up onto his lap. He’d gotten good at hiding his pained reactions, not wanting to worry his child. He’d promised to pick up Ciri from his dad’s just after lunch. She had coerced Vesemir, Eskel, and Lambert into taking her to a local diner giving Geralt had a few more free hours. 

He rolled over and grabbed his phone off the nightstand. There were several texts waiting for him. He ignored the group chat from Eskel and Lambert-- since there was an eggplant emoji, he wasn't going there. Before he’d fallen asleep last night, Geralt and Jaskier had texted for a few minutes. He’d received a photo of a sleepy Jaskier, apparently home safe. 

Jaskier had apparently gotten up early. Geralt flipped open the message, and was greeted with a photo of a cup coffee. He was bemused to see that the cup had a kitten in space on it. With this message, Jaskier had sent _Hangovers suck. I didn't eat when I got home last night._

Geralt snorted, and replied, _Eat please, next time. It helps with the hangovers._

He shoved his phone in his sweatpant pocket and stood, twisting to crack his spine. Geralt preferred to work out right after he woke up. He quickly shucked his sleep clothes for workout gear, shoved his feet in his running shoes and went to stretch before his run. Grabbing a pair of headphones, Geralt checked his phone to make sure his GPS tracker was ready and noticed that sometime during his stretching Jaskier had sent him a reply. 

_The sarcasm! I was so distracted by your manly visage that food became irrelevant. Take the compliment as it is meant to be, oh most handsome of asshats._

Geralt grinned. _So noted. Going to run. Try drinking water to negate the hangover and do some exercise. It'll help. Seriously._

Jaskier was apparently at his phone, because he immediately fired back, _Exercise? Are you offering a workout? Enjoy your run._

Geralt selected a good workout playlist, tucked his phone into his arm band, and closed the door behind him. On the days when his family would take Ciri out for the day or evening, he took advantage of the time offered to him and ran. When he couldn’t, Ciri delighted in ‘helping’ him with his exercise. The last time he’d worked out with her she’d assisted by climbing up on his back while he did pushups and generally trying to trip him. 

As Geralt ran he found himself contemplating the changes of his life in the last month. Two years ago he had adopted Ciri after Duny and Pavetta, Ciri’s biological parents, had died in an accident. He had met Pavetta in primary school. When she’d met Duny in university she’d introduced him to Geralt, who had taken an immediate liking to him. They’d been fast friends, and Geralt had been honored when they’d asked him to be Ciri’s godfather. Both Duny and Pavetta had been long-estranged from their families, and so Geralt had made sure he was a constant presence in Ciri’s life since her birth. He’d always expected her to grow up calling him some variation of Uncle Geralt. Father had not been on the radar, but when the worst had happened he had done whatever he could lessen the trauma for his little girl. 

The transition from favorite uncle to father had been hard, but he absolutely loved being her dad. However, being a single father with a rambunctious four year old and no consistent support structure had proved to be a little much for even Geralt to handle. When Eskel and Lambert had asked if he’d consider coming and taking over the recipe creation and ingredient sourcing full time, leaving them to actually manage the business side of the brewery, Geralt had agreed. So a month ago he and Ciri had packed up from where they were living and moved to Cintra City. 

Meeting Jaskier had been a surprise -- but a welcome one. The fact that Jaskier was both aware of Ciri, and not shying away from Geralt was pleasant. Geralt didn’t have delusions of grandeur. He was more than happy to see where this went before he made any move to introduce Jaskier in any capacity to Ciri outside title Ciri had given him-- _coolest singer ever, daddy!_

Geralt shook himself out of his musings, and checked his fitness tracker. He’d been running a solid hour, so he started slowing himself down into a cooldown period. Once he got back to the house, he stretched again and finally flopped down on the floor. He pulled his phone out of the arm band, and pulled open the messenger app again. As expected, Eskel and Lambert were being gross in their group chat, and he told them to fuck off. Vesemir had sent him a picture of Ciri, grinning and covered in syrup, with a pancake clutched victoriously in one fist. Geralt paused for a second, before messaging Jaskier, _Here’s a tip for you: If you’re interested in the best produce in the City you have to go to the Cintran Market on Temeria Ave. and 12th Street on weekday evenings. During the summer there’s a local farmer who sells the best fruits and vegetables you’ve ever seen, but he won’t sell during the weekends. He says he doesn’t like the bustle._

Geralt wondered what Jaskier would do with this information. After all, he’d listened while Geralt had babbled about supply chains and ethical sourcing last night. He decided to take a shower, rather than wait for an answer by his phone. 

Jaskier hadn’t replied by the time Geralt left to pick Ciri up. Geralt didn’t think much of it. After all, if the librarian was as hungover as he’d implied it was entirely likely he had passed back out rather than following Geralt’s perfectly valid sweat-your-hangover-out advice. To be fair, Lambert and Eskel also ignored his advice - but they were both frequently wrong. 

Geralt walked the few blocks to his father’s house. Vesemir had helped Geralt find the townhome he and Ciri were living in, and the proximity to his father had definitely been a selling point of the place. When he got to the house he saw Ciri, Eskel, and Lambert playing some sort of game of tag. Ciri was gleefully laughing from her perch atop Lambert’s shoulders, who was holding her in place with his hands wrapped around her ankles. They appeared to be chasing Eskel, who was pretending he couldn’t get away from Ciri’s tickling hands. Geralt paused taking a moment to appreciate the joy on his daughter’s face. Then, he snuck up behind Lambert, who had almost certainly noticed him. Lambert kept his and Ciri’s back to Geralt’s sneaking, which allowed Geralt to reach up and tickle her sides. 

Ciri kicked her feet vigorously, shrieking, “ _Daddy! STOP TICKLING!”_ Lambert, apparently not braced for Ciri’s murder-kicks _oofed_ . Ciri pushed off of Lambert’s shoulders, and tumbled into her father’s waiting arms. She wrapped herself around his neck in an enthusiastic hug. “Daddy! Grandpa and me had a slumber party! We watched _ponies!_ I want a pony! And he let me have a milkshake with my pancakes this morning!” Ciri, apparently also on a sugar-induced energy spurt, continued informing him of all the fun things she and her grandpa had gotten into. 

Geralt loosened her hold slightly, glancing over at his brothers. Eskel was snickering at Lambert, who was dramatically rubbing at his chest where Ciri had kicked him. Rather than interrupting his daughter’s gleeful rendition of some song she had heard while staying with her grandpa, he motioned towards the house and then started walking in that direction. He nudged the door open, blocking Vesemir’s escape-minded cat, Letho, with his foot. Letho hissed at him and darted down the hall to settle, tail swishing, suspiciously staring at him. 

Geralt put Ciri down, who blithely ran over to Letho. The demon cat liked two people -- Ciri and his father. Letho’s attitude immediately changed, his weirdly-furless body arching into her gentle pets. Knowing Ciri was in no danger from Letho, Geralt chose instead to edge past him (Letho tried to swat his ankle, the asshole) to go find his father. 

Vesemir was seated comfortably at the table in his kitchen, sorting through papers. He glanced up when Geralt entered. “Afternoon. Have you found the cub?” 

Geralt huffed, sitting down at the table. “I’m sure it had nothing to do with pancakes and a milkshake. She isn’t usually quite this hyper.” 

Vesemir seemed unrepentant. “Hmm. It’s almost like having to raise three energetic boys who were each a year apart in age.” 

Geralt tipped his head in his father’s direction -- the point was made. “You didn’t have to take us in.” 

Vesemir snorted, “Oh shut your mouth. You’re just salty that you’ll have to deal with her inevitable sugar crash. Eskel and Lambert were telling me you had an impromptu date with the librarian Ciri has been talking about since you moved.” 

Really. They were worse than grannies at a knitting circle. “It was the first conversation we’ve had outside of passing hellos at the library.” 

Vesemir nodded, apparently comfortable with Geralt’s explanation and willing to let the conversation settle there. Geralt was perfectly comfortable sitting in silence with his father, and took the time to check his phone. He had a notification from one of his hops suppliers, which he took a second to reply to. He forwarded a couple business inquiries related to the operational side of the brewery on to Eskel and Lambert before opening his messages app. He found a reply to his earlier text to Jaskier. 

_Interesting! I’ve been living here for years, how did I not know about this market? Would you like to go with me sometime and show me the best places to look?_

Geralt raised an eyebrow, but found a smile tugging at his lips. _It probably won’t be able to be this week. My dad is going out of town, and he’s the person who usually watches Ciri when I’m out in the evening._

He glanced at his father. “Would you be willing to take Ciri after you get back in town for an evening?” 

His father nodded. “Just let me know when, but you know I’m happy to do so.”

Jaskier had replied to his text, _How about the week after next? Tuesday evening around 5:30? We could meet at Kaer Morhen and walk from there_. 

_That sounds perfect. I’m looking forward to it, Jaskier._

_Me too. I’m getting ready to meet Triss for a smoothie. Talk later, Geralt._

_Bye, Jaskier._

Geralt tucked his phone away, generally pleased with how the last 48 hours had shaped up. He stood, clapping his father on the shoulder. “Thanks again for taking Ciri last night, dad. We need to do some errands we need to run on our walk home, so we should get going.” 

Vesemir stood, tugging his son into a quick hug. “You’re doing just fine, Geralt. Let’s go round up your kid.” 

\------

The next two weeks passed quickly. Geralt saw Jaskier at Toddler Music Hour and they exchanged friendly hellos, with no real time for conversation. They texted quite often, though, and the conversations continued to be interesting. Geralt had told Jaskier some of the story of how Ciri had come to be with him, and Jaskier had opened up a bit about his tumultuous relationship with his family. Eskel and Lambert had mentioned seeing Jaskier at Kaer Morhen during the evenings a few times with Triss. Geralt had been busy vetting sitters to watch Ciri in during the day until a spot opened up in the daycare he wanted to enroll her in. 

Finally, it was the Tuesday he and Jaskier were meant to meet up. He had texted Jaskier that morning to confirm their plans, and Jaskier had quickly responded in the affirmative. Jaskier had also mentioned that he might be a little late, because his desk relief was Valdo Marx, who he declared his sworn enemy and also his relief for the desk shift. Apparently this Valdo character hated Jaskier and was always late to relieve him from the desk. Not knowing what else to do, Geralt had texted back a short video of Ciri pretending she was on a spaceship, and blasting off using her tiny chair as her spaceship. 

Jaskier had sent back half a dozen heart emojis before going silent. They didn’t talk much during the day-- Jaskier was a consummate professional, particularly when he was doing work with the public, and Geralt spent much of his day working and entertaining an excitable four year old. They tended to talk more during the evenings. 

Nevertheless, the day passed quickly and soon it was time to drop Ciri off at his father’s house. He managed to corral her into sandals, her hair into pigtails, and her favorite stuffy in her backpack in case she fell asleep before he got back from his date. Dropping her off with a big bear hug and smacking kiss on the forehead, he hurried on to Kaer Morhen. He’d told Eskel to please try and hold the back table for him Eskel had agreed to both table holding duty, and (if Jasier got their first) serving him nothing heavier than an IPA. 

When he entered the taproom, he immediately noticed Jaskier leaning against the bar. He was chatting with Eskel, gesturing broadly about something. Geralt walked up next to Jaskier, trying not to startle him. Probably not the best move for a first date. 

Jaskier turned to greet Geralt, beaming brightly at him. “I’m not late!” he exclaimed, gesturing at the clock hanging on the wall near the brewing area. 

Geralt smiled. “So it would seem. Did you want to grab a beer before we head to the market?” 

Jaskier grinned at him. “Who am I to turn down beer from a handsome man?” 

Eskel, still leaning on the bar near Geralt, cooed at Geralt. “Aww. Handsome! Clearly he hasn’t gotten to know you too well, Geralt. Jaskier, just so you know the looks don’t make up for the personality.” 

Geralt flipped his brother off, and gestured towards the table they had sat at the last time they were here. “Ignore him. I’ll pull us some beers, and then meet you over there, if you’d like?” 

Jaskier smiled at him and kissed him gently on the cheek. “Sounds lovely.”

They drank their beer while talking companionably. Rather than lingering too long, they mutually agreed that one beer was enough and stood to walk to the market. Geralt motioned Jaskier ahead of him through the door; once they were both on the street, Geralt reached over and tangled their fingers together. Jasier grinned up at him and squeezed Geralt’s hand, before asking, “So, how did you find this market?”

“There were a couple of people in one of the courses on food justice issues in Cintra who mentioned it. As soon as Ciri and I moved to Cintra City, I checked it out. It really is as good as they said.” 

Jaskier tugged at Geralt’s hand idly. “Hmm. Does Ciri enjoy going to the market?”

Geralt snorted. “Yes. They often have an adoption stall for the local shelter, and she’s been a months-long campaign to adopt a dog or a cat. My dad has a demon-cat named Letho that she loves, so it usually shifts back to a cat after she spends any length of time at his house.” 

Laughing gleefully, Jaskier replied, “Well, I’ll make sure that the next books I recommend to her are animal care picture books.” 

Geralt side-eyed him. “Stop enabling her. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how the dog-bean song keeps making an appearance now that you know it gets stuck in my head.” Jaskier started humming it, the mischievous tilt to his mouth obvious. Geralt threw his free hand up in the air, dramatically. “Ah! Betrayal! No wonder you and Ciri get along so well. Well we’re almost here, so you’ll have to stop torturing me. What would you like to have for dinner?” Geralt gestured at the long sprawl of stalls set up. 

Jaskier gaped a little. “I was only sort of joking when I asked about not knowing about this earlier. But seriously… how did I not know this was here? I wouldn’t even know where to start. You choose.” 

The market was starting to get busy, so Geralt let go of Jaskier’s hand so they wouldn’t become a road-block walking together. He said, “My favorite stall serves beef and mushroom stew over rice. They also have potato and meat stuffed pastries that are delicious. It’ll go well with the beer we had earlier.” 

“Sounds delicious! Lead on.” 

As they walked, Geralt continued telling Jaskier about his favorite stall, highlighting their sustainable supply chain, and locally sourced ingredients. Jaskier was quick to engage with Geralt. Once they’d gotten a hearty portion of stew and a steak and mushroom pastry to split, they decided to find a place to sit rather than eat and walk. Jaskier noticed an open-air stage, and pointed it out to Geralt. “Would you mind?” It looked like a musician was setting up to play. 

They settled on a bench, the food between them. The stew was as delicious as Geralt remembered, and the pastry was buttery and tempting. The conversation between them flowed seamlessly, topics shifting fluidly between Geralt’s and Jaskier’s interests. Eventually, the musician started playing, her rich voice filling the open-stage seating. Jaskier stopped eating, clearly distracted by the music. The rest of the musician’s set went on like this, Jaskier eating a few bites between songs, but generally watching the musician as she switched between a variety of instruments. Once she finished, he clapped enthusiastically before turning to Geralt with a radiant smile. “That alone made this evening worth it!” 

Geralt smiled, reaching over and tucking a piece of Jaskier’s hair back from where it was falling in his eyes. “I’m glad. Do you want to go see the stall I was telling you about earlier?” 

“Yes! Thank you for letting me listen in peace. It’s not often I get to hear amazing live music, anymore, without also having to crowd myself into a bar. This was really lovely.” 

Geralt gathered their trash, distributing it into appropriate bins. “Not a problem. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” He gestured to a long farm stall, a small crowd clustered out in front. “That’s the stall, I was telling you about.” 

They went over. Geralt found himself explaining what vegetables and fruits he and Ciri ate the most. Jaskier shared that he had a deep dislike of cooked carrots; it would explain why he carefully picked his way around them in the beef and mushroom stew earlier. They each bought some produce, and then began weaving their way through the rest of the stalls at the market. 

The rest of the evening passed quickly. They stopped at a variety of stalls, sometimes purchasing an item or pointing out something interesting. At one point Jaskier tugged Geralt over to a little doughnut stand, purchasing a few of the sweet treats and enticing Geralt to have a bite of one. Geralt generally didn’t eat too many sweets. His indulgence tended to be a good beer, rather than sugar. 

They slowly made their way back to Kaer Morhen once they’d finished at the market. They were once again holding hands. Outside the brewery, Jaskier turned towards Geralt and tugged him out of the brewery entrance. “Thank you again for such a lovely evening, Geralt.” 

Geralt smiled tenderly at Jaskier, and tugged his hand free from Jaskier’s. “Thank you for joining me.” He reached up and brushed his fingers along Jaskier’s cheek. “May I kiss you?” 

Jaskier wove his own free hand into Geralt’s long hair and tugged him into a kiss in response. It was sweet and tender. They broke away from each other after a moment. Geralt pressed a quick, second kiss to Jaskier’s lips. 

Jaskier smiled at Geralt, bright and brilliant. “A truly perfect ending to an excellent date. Shall I talk with you later?” 

Geralt nodded. “Please let me know when you get home safely?” 

Jaskier agreed. “Of course. I’ll talk to you soon.” He pressed a kiss to Geralt’s cheek and stepped backwards, accidentally bumping into someone who was entering the brewery. He squawked in surprise and flailed a little. He turned and apologized to the person he had bumped into. Turning back to Geralt, he waved a little and exclaimed, “So much for a smooth exit. Bye Geralt!” 

Geralt grinned at him. “Bye, Jaskier.” After watching Jaskier walk down the street and turn the corner, he considered the entrance of Kaer Morhen. He’d shut down what he needed to before he’d left for his date with Jaskier, so there was no reason to go back inside. 

Lambert suddenly appeared in the large glass window next to the entrance and started making kissy faces at Geralt. Oh hell no. If his brothers were doing this shit, he was going home. No reason to ruin a perfectly lovely evening with their shit. 

He flipped off Lambert, and turned to walk home. Ciri was at Vesemir’s, and he had an evening free. Might as well take the rarely-found solitude where he could. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The singer in the stage area sings a lot like Rhiannon Giddens. If you haven't heard her, you should YouTube her tiny desk concert. 
> 
> Letho is a Sphynx cat, but a really grumpy one. Most of the Sphynx cats I have met are really lovely, but Letho is a salty bastard of a Sphynx cat.
> 
> Also, shout out to all the people who got the bean song reference. It is a favorite of mine. I learned it a million years ago (only slightly hyperbolic) in junior high, and it is still lodged in my brain to emerge at the most unexpected times.


	3. A Much Needed Respite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier has had a shit week. Geralt helps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and kudos! 
> 
> I wrote an angst, but it is mostly a fluff. CW for mentioned homophobia and Jaskier's shitty parents.

It has been a long week. Jaskier sighed, the exhaustion weighing heavily, and shoved the door to his apartment open. The key had been sticking and it was just another thing for tomorrow’s Jaskier to worry about. For now, he just wanted to flop down on his couch and not think. He was supposed to meet Geralt for drinks tonight as Kaer Morhen but he had texted him on his way home saying that he was too tired to even think about going out. Geralt had been understanding, of course, but even so Jaskier couldn’t help be disappointed in his own maxed-capacity for being out in public. He and Geralt had been seeing each other for three months, and it was rare that they got a weekend evening completely free. Eskel and Lambert had taken Ciri camping to give Geralt a few days break and they had planned this to be the start of what had promised to be an epic marathon of cuddling, sex, and time spent together. 

Oh well. It could wait until tomorrow. 

Jaskier dropped his work bag with a  _ thunk _ , wincing at the impact of his laptop but not caring that much. Shoes toed off, and coat carelessly slung over a chair, he stumbled over to the couch and flopped down face first. His right hand, not caught between the back of the couch and his body, yanked his phone out from his pocket and he dropped that on the floor next to him. Groaning in dissatisfaction with his position, he flailed around to tuck one of the throw pillows Triss had forced him to buy under his cheek more comfortably. He heard his phone buzz against the wood of his floor, and grumpily huffed under his breath. He cracked one eye open and unlocked the phone. It was a text from Geralt. 

_ Did you make it home, or do I need to come retrieve you from a bench along the way? _

Jaskier snorted quietly, amused at his boyfriend’s snark.  _ I’m home, and my couch is my new boyfriend. Sorry _ . 

The reply came quickly.  _ I must not be doing something right if I’m replaced by the first piece of comfortable furniture you encounter.  _ Geralt appeared to still be typing, so rather than type a reply Jaskier waited. Following in short order came,  _ Would you mind if I came over tonight? I’ve been worried about you this week. _

Jaskier smiled, taken once again by Geralt’s empathy.  _ I would love that… I didn’t lock the door, just knock before you enter so you don’t scare me.  _ He could imagine Geralt’s scowl. Geralt had ragged on him endlessly when he realized how often Jaskier failed to secure his apartment when he entered. He lived in a quiet neighborhood of Cintra City, he wasn’t worried. 

_ I really wish you’d remember to lock up, but I will.  _

Jaskier flopped the phone back down on the floor and closed his eyes again. He just needed to rest for a few minutes. 

He was woken sometime later by a hand rubbing circles in his lower back, and Geralt’s low timber calling his name. “Jaskier…” 

Geralt had apparently been trying to wake him for a few minutes. Jaskier grumbled and turned his face out from where he’d buried it in the back of his couch. “G’rlt?” He blearily looked towards his boyfriend. 

The hand moved from his lower back to tucking the hair away from his eyes. With his bangs out of his face, he could see his boyfriend more clearly. Geralt smiled gently at him. “This is why I want you to lock your door. You sleep like the dead.” He stood from where he’d been crouched next to the couch. “If you scooch up a bit, we can cuddle.” 

Jaskier groaned but moved obligingly. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to fall asleep.” Geralt hummed, sitting down next to Jaskier and tugging him so he was tucked up under his arm, with his head on his shoulder. Jaskier fell bonelessly into him, reassured by the strength of his arm and body and happy to not have to think about everything that had gone wrong during the week. With his head resting on Geralt’s shoulder, and his face tucked into his neck, Jaskier could feel himself starting to fall back asleep. Geralt appeared happy enough holding him. He had covered the hand Jaskier had resting on his stomach with his free one, and was running idle circles over the back, matching the equally hypnotic ones he was running over the curve of Jaskier’s shoulder with the thumb of his other hand. 

Jaskier gave up on trying to keep his eyes open, and let himself go limp. He fell asleep again. 

\-----

Geralt nuzzled his nose into Jaskier’s thick brown hair. He’d been worried this week, his normally exuberant and chipper partner had been stressed and subdued all week. Jaskier had alluded to several stressful incidents, but didn’t seem keen on talking about them. Geralt, who was all too familiar with the need to let things lay until he could get a handle on how he felt about them, was happy to support his boyfriend however he needed it. But, when Jaskier had cancelled tonight Geralt had felt it was important that Jaskier not be alone if he wanted company. Never one to force his presence, he had been relieved when Jaskier was open to Geralt coming over. 

Jaskier let out a soft snore, shifted slightly, and tucked his face more securely in Geralt’s neck. Geralt hugged him closer and let him sleep. He’d put the ingredients for one of his favorite pasta dishes away, as well as a few slices of the rich cheesecake Jaskier liked from the bakery a few store fronts down from the brewery. They’d discovered it on one of their dates and it remained a place Geralt only went when he was with Jaskier or meeting him. Not too prone to sentimentality, it was nice to have special places for the two of them. 

Geralt pulled his phone from his pocket, and flipped idly through his email while he let Jaskier sleep. A message came in from Eskel-- a photo of Ciri, little ball cap on and face sticky with marshmallow. Geralt smiled at the scene and sent back a quick message asking how she was taking to their camping trip. His brothers had taken Ciri to Vesemir’s farm and they were camping in the backyard. Ciri thought this was the height of adventure, and was happy to spend time with her uncles. Geralt was just happy they were near running water and constant cellphone service. He trusted his brothers implicitly and they had done similar ‘camping’ trips before, but he was understandably antsy when away from his daughter. 

The farm was a 30 minute drive from Cintra City. He could get there quickly, if the need arose. 

He went back to his phone, grinning at the follow up message from Eskel-- this time a picture of Ciri riding on Lambert’s shoulders. Geralt thus passed the time, idly browsing news sites and messaging with his brothers while Jaskier slept. It had been an hour of this when he felt his boyfriend start to stir. Finally, Jaskier’s eyes opened, seeming to give way to the inevitability of alertness. He lifted his head and leaned back, stretching his arms over his head and arching his body in a deep stretch. Jaskier stared at Geralt, who reached up and tenderly brushed at Jaskier’s cheek where lines from his t-shirt had formed. “Good evening. Feeling a bit better?” 

Jaskier hummed, tucking his face into Geralt’s palm. “I vaguely remember you arriving. Passed back out so quickly I thought it might be a dream.” 

Geralt leaned forward and kissed Jaskier tenderly. “Not a dream.” He kissed him again, and started to pull back. Jaskier grumbled disagreeably, and snagged Geralt by his t-shirt, pulling him back in for a longer kiss. Geralt broke away again, and tugged Jaskier into a firm hug. 

Jaskier buried his face in his neck. “Shit, it’s good to see you though. This week sucked.” 

Geralt massaged the back of Jaskier’s neck. “I know you said it was hard and you didn’t want to talk about it. We still don’t have to, but I’m here if you do need to talk.” 

Jaskier nodded, not saying anything. They sat that way for a while, before Geralt turned his head and kissed the still sleep-warm line of Jaskier’s cheek. “I want to cook you a good meal. I know when you’re stressed you revert to frozen meals and snacking.” Jaskier nodded again, still not pulling away. Geralt tucked back into the couch, deciding that dinner could wait until Jaskier had soaked up enough physical connection to move comfortably. 

Another half hour passed before Jaskier sat up again. His eyes were a little red like he had been holding back tears. Geralt reached forward and traced gentle fingertips along his cheekbones, brushing away a few tears. Jaskier smiled shakily. “It was a really shit week.” He stood, and held out his hand to pull Geralt from the couch. 

Geralt wrapped his arm around Jaskier’s waist, and pulled him along to the kitchen. He’d cooked here several times before and was comfortable with the layout. He led Jaskier to a barstool along the breakfast counter. “Why don’t you sit and have a glass of wine while I cook. Talk if you want, if not I can tell you about Ciri’s great adventure camping thus far.” 

Jaskier took the offered glass of wine, taking a sip of the tart, oaky vintage. He watched as Geralt pulled out flour, oil, and egg and began making homemade pasta. One of the recent ways Jaskier had found himself totally spoiled was from how Geralt was not only an excellent brewer but a phenomenal cook. He let the sounds of Geralt cooking wash over him, and felt himself relaxing further. 

“My parents called.” He said, apropos of nothing. Geralt paused from where he was carefully mixing the little well of egg and oil into the flour. He looked up at Jaskier, before nodding. 

“The call didn’t go well?” he asked. 

Jaskier was silent. “That would imply that the calls ever go well. I told them I was seeing you, and they were… unhappy.” 

Geralt’s brow furrowed. “They’re homophobic?” 

Jaskier paused before saying, “Well, they wouldn’t say that. They prefer to be on the forefront of social issues when it is politically advantageous. But they don’t like that their son is  _ actively _ seeing a man. It doesn’t sit well with my father’s political aspirations. It’s better when I’m dating a woman but they can still say that their son is bisexual.” 

Geralt’s grip on his fork tightened. “Well, that’s fucking horrible. How can I help you?” he asked. He was looking at Jaskier, his golden eyes tender, despite the obvious anger present in the tightness of his shoulders. 

Jaskier felt heat growing behind his eyes, and growled in frustration at the prospect of shedding tears over his parents' callousness again. He heard the fork being put down and then felt himself being tugged back into Geralt’s embrace, his back against Geralt’s chest, Geralt’s arms a warm, firm band around his chest. He leaned his head back on Geralt’s shoulder, and looked up. “It has been like this for years, I don’t know why it still hurts so much.” 

Geralt tucked his nose behind Jaskier’s ear, and kissed the spot there. He replied, “Consistent exposure doesn’t necessarily lessen the pain. Your parents are meant to love you unconditionally, not with caveats.” 

Jaskier turned in Geralt’s embrace, no longer holding back the tears he’d been suppressing during the week. Geralt let him cry, petting over his hair and holding him firmly. To Jaskier, it felt like it was hours of this, but he realized that it had been a long time since he’d let himself be this vulnerable around another person and he was likely being hyperbolic. He pulled back again, rubbing at his eyes and sniffling. Geralt tipped his head up with a gentle hand and kissed his cheeks and forehead. 

He spoke quietly. “I’m sorry you have to deal with that. You don’t deserve it, and your feelings and experiences shouldn’t be invalidated at the expense of your father’s career.” Geralt paused, seeming to consider his next thoughts carefully. “You’re such a bright spot in my life, Jaskier. I am so grateful that we met. If you ever need me, please let me know. I will try to be there in whatever way you need” 

Jaskier sniffed, rubbing his hands over his face. He reached up and hugged Geralt. “Thank you. For listening. And for being in my life.” He pulled away, and then asked, “Would you mind if I went and took a shower? I hate to leave you cooking in my house alone but I need a moment to myself and to just...wash this away.” 

Geralt smiled at him, and nodded. “Go on. By the time you’re done I should have dinner cooking, and we can have a quiet evening.” 

Jaskier went. 

Geralt listened to the sound of the shower turning on, and considered what he’d learned about his boyfriend. His parents sounded like dicks… he wondered if introducing Jaskier to Vesemir might be a good idea. Maybe introducing Ciri to Jaskier as Geralt’s boyfriend as well? Something they could talk about together, but Geralt felt certain in his connection and relationship to Jaskier. 

By the time Jaskier was done with his shower (one much longer than Geralt had anticipated), dinner was done and ready to be plated up. Jaskier was now dressed in comfy sweatpants and a t-shirt, and seeing him looking so comfortable made a place in Geralt’s heart feel almost bruised with tenderness. 

They had dinner, conversation passing easily between them. Jaskier was delighted that Geralt had stopped for his favorite cheesecake (lemon raspberry) and they shared a slice while watching a movie. It was reaching the point in the evening where Geralt would usually head home, and he felt like he shouldn’t overstay his welcome. 

Jaskier, using possibly unknown mind reading powers, or perhaps recognizing what time it was shifted his hand from where he had it resting on Geralt’s chest while they cuddled up to rest on his cheek. He tilted his head up and kissed Geralt. “Stay the night?” 

Geralt nodded, pulling Jaskier into another, longer kiss. “Of course.” 

They settled back down. The tv screen had gone black with the movie long-over. They let the sounds of Cintra City wash over them as they rested against each other, trading occasional kisses and enjoying being together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then they had really tender sex and it was emotional, but I'm not going to write it because I make porn sound like an anatomy lesson.


End file.
